


Teacher's Pet

by CDunphy



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Murder, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 03:24:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1181312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CDunphy/pseuds/CDunphy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A girl who has recently lost her father forms a bond with her teacher, who has been asked to ensure that she's coping, unaware of who he truly is and what he's capable of. As their bond grows and she learns more about him, will she be repulsed by him? Or will she be more inclined to join him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teacher's Pet

**Author's Note:**

> This work is original and was actually inspired by my GCSE Film Studies project. It is not based on anything even remotely true, and is all a work of fiction. This is only the first chapter, so we'll see if I continue or not. This chapter isn't overly graphic or descriptive but I've rated this all based on my outline for the story. And as I live in England, this is based off the English education system as I know it. I hope someone enjoys this! :-)

Six months ago

"Come on, remember what the doctor said. Just breathe, you just have to remember to breathe. You can't keep letting your anger get the better of you, you have to learn to control it." He takes a deep breath as a shrill scream comes from another room, he attempts to ignore it. He is sweating and his hands are trembling as he attempts to control his breathing; his chest aches as he struggles to breath and think straight. 

"Ignore it. You can do this." He mutters, beginning the mantra that he's repeated so many times in the last week alone. The screaming just gets louder and louder, it's too much to listen to, too overwhelming to hear. Almost as if someone was being murdered or tortured. His breathing becomes deeper and more ragged as he attempts to clear his head of everything but the mantra that's become almost like a little prayer for him. "It's been months now, you've been on a clean streak. You can do this, you can be normal. You have to be normal." Silence falls over the house for a moment and he let's out a breath he hadn't even realised he was holding. His eyes fall closed as he allows the silence to wash over him. It is shattered within seconds as the screaming resumes, seeming louder than ever. Throwing the pile of books to the floor, the man moves quickly out of one room and into the next. 

The room is smaller than the last and darker too, a single bulb hangs from the ceiling barely lighting the room. There's nothing in this room aside from some chairs and a desk. A teenage girl sits in the corner of the room, gagged and bound. The screaming continues to pour out of her mouth, even as her breathing hitches when she sees him enter the room. This man clearly strikes fear into the heart of her, without even saying a word. There are tears pouring down her cheeks and it's clear that she has been screaming for hours. Her eyes follow the tall man as he paces around the small room, mumbling to himself and trying to calm down. The size and build of him makes it unbelievable that he could be doing this, whilst he is tall; he is only slightly muscular. You wouldn't imagine this man to have the strength to hurt anyone. His face, which looks kind any other time you see him, is hard and emotionless now. Almost as if this is the calm before the storm. She stops screaming and starts trying to speak to him, but it's a waste of what little energy she has left. 

"If only you'd learn!" He yells, breaking the moments silence that had lapsed over the small, dank room. The girl jumps, not expecting him to yell. "You could have fixed this, if you'd done what I'd asked then we wouldn't be here!" He tells her, shaking his head as if he was disappointed in her. As if she'd let him down, as if he had trusted her. He pulls a chair from the other side of the room, letting the legs drag across the floor and allow a loud and painful squeaking sound to come from it. He straddles it, sitting just inches away from her. The girl begins to struggle again, turning her face as far away from his as she can.

"Calm down," The man mumbles, reaching his still shaking hand out to move her hair out of her face. "Don't get upset, let's talk about what we've learnt today; hmm?" His voice is almost soothing, he's speaking in the manner you would when telling off a toddler who has just finished having a temper tantrum. "You misbehaved, and now you're being punished for it. It's just how the world works, if you do something bad there has to be a consequence. Do you understand?" 

The girl frowns, she's trying to figure out what exactly is going on at this point. She can't think of what she'd done wrong today. She'd behaved, she normally always behaves. She might talk a bit too much. But she at least shows up and does the work. 

"You talk when the teacher is talking, you use disgusting language and that's before we even start about the state of your uniform." The man tells her, leaning closer. She shivers, it's as if he was just in her head. She tries to pull as far away from him as she can, throwing him a look that is meant to show disgust but fear probably wins out. "Look at you, your skirt is barely covering your backside, your shirt isn't buttoned all the way up and your tie is far too loose." He says, reaching out and taking hold of her tie. 

She tries frantically to apologise as she realises what is about to happen, she starts to cry and shake her head. She didn't mean to cause this, she didn't mean to end up in this situation. Was it really even her fault? This isn't the way things were meant to go. He's mental. Her thoughts are going at a 100mph as it dawns on her that she might never see her parents again, she might never see her siblings, her friends, her boyfriend. That this man is going to be the last person she sees. It's all going to be over. 

"Shh," He smiles. "It'll all be okay now, we'll just make sure your tie is tighter. Much tighter. Are you ready to start learning yet, Grace?" He laughs, pulling the tie tight around her neck. He doesn't stop laughing until her body has gone limp in the chair in front of him. The final look of terror etched into the sixteen year old's face for the rest of her days. He continues to smile, admiring his work, enjoying the adrenaline. He stands and the chair clatters to the floor. 

"I should probably start tidying up," He mutters, shrugging as he leaves the room. 

 

The body is still there the next morning as he gets ready for work. Collecting the books that he had managed to mark before he'd gotten distracted, he grabbed some coffee and got into the car heading to the local secondary school where he'd worked for the last few months since he'd move to the area from Manchester. Here in Newcastle, he was Noah Collins from Manchester but in Manchester he had been Noah Harris from London. There was always a part of himself that he couldn't give up, a part of his past that wouldn't leave him no matter how many times he changed his name and identity, so he chose to be Noah no matter the city. 

"Good morning, Mr Collins." He was greeted like this every morning by different members of his form class as they filed in. Usually the ones he spoke to about a range of things more than those he chose to only have brief school related conversations with. Noah nodded to them as he logged on to the computer so he'd be able to take the register when the rest of the class arrived in five minutes time.

It was often at 8:50am whilst waiting for his form class to appear for the start of the school day that Noah reflected on his career choice. The more he thought about it, it hadn't really seemed like something he'd ever have ended up doing. Teenagers had never been his ideal group of people to be around, even when he was a teenager himself, so why he'd become a secondary school teacher; he couldn't remember. Perhaps it was because of what had happened to him just weeks before he went to University. Or perhaps it was simply because people told him that he needed to get a realistic job; no one had had confidence in achieving the one career he'd had his heart set on since he was six. Eventually he shook himself from that line of thought and his form class had arrived. Once he'd taken the register, made them aware of any announcements that were of importance and told them to do their PSHE work; he was able to chat to some of the members of the class that he found more tolerable. 

"No blazer again today?" He asked, glancing at a girl sitting with a group of friends near his desk. The girl shrugged, pushing her dark hair out of her face as she looked down at the PSHE task in front of her. He taught his girl, Sophia Anderson, for two subjects those being media studies and art. The girl was passionate about both but had a tendency to chat a bit too much and lose focus on the work that needed doing. Although her work was usually always handed in on time. Tall and thin, Sophia was easily spotted amongst her friends; more often than not she stood out like a sore thumb. 

"You've asked me that every morning for the last four years," She grinned. "You should get a recording of it!" He smirked at her attempt at humour and shook his head. "Besides, I've had a lot more than that stupid blazer to worry about lately." She had a point, her blazer was never about her person and lately, most staff had been letting it slide due to the tough time Sophia had been having after her Dad died three weeks ago. Noah had always just let it go, the blazers in this place were unsightly. 

"Where's Grace today then?" Noah asked, changing the subject. This was, of course, vital to his situation. 

"I... Actually, I don't know," Sophia answered, looking up from her work to frown at him. Sophia turned to her few friends sitting with her and they seemed to all be conferring about the whereabouts of Grace Harries. None of them seemed to know. "Hey Joe," Sophia called out across the class, "Have you seen Grace since yesterday?" 

"Nah, I haven't seen her since Maths yesterday morning. Sorry Soph," The boy replied before returning to his conversation. 

"I think she must be ill or something then, but it's weird." Sophia muttered as she turned back to face Noah. 

"How so?" He asked, frowning. He'd gotten good at playing the part over the years, he was not amateur in all of this. Yesterday night hadn't been the first time that had happened, and he knew it wouldn't be the last. Acting as if he was concerned, as if the well being of Grace or any of the kids in his class actually mattered to him, was something that he'd gotten just right in the last six or so years. He was almost a professional some might say.

"Normally she'd text me and let me know if she's going to be walking to school with me but I've not heard from her since we left school yesterday afternoon. I just assumed that she'd slept in and I came straight here." Sophia explained, running the events of yesterday through in her mind. "I know when we left school last night she had loads of revision to do for History though, she probably stayed up half the night revising so she'd get yet another A*. She'll be in tomorrow, no doubt! She'll probably be devastated to have ruined her 100% attendance record." Sophia said with a laugh. "Why'd you ask, anyway?"

"Just like you said, Sophia." Noah shrugged, playing it cool now that Sophia seemed to be more relaxed about the whereabouts of her friend. "She has 100% attendance, has had for the past four years and year 11 really isn't the time to start not having 100%." 

"I'll phone her later, Sir." Sophia smiled. "I'm sure she'll be happy to hear you're so concerned!" Winking at him, Sophia laughed and started to pack up her stuff just as the bell rang for to signal the end of the form period. 

"Mhm, hardly appropriate; Sophia." Noah chastised. Sophia simply laughed and called out a "See you later," over her shoulder as she left the room with her friends. Noah sighed, remembering he still had to clear away the body once he got home before shaking the thought from his mind and looking down at his lesson plan. He was teaching year 8's about Van Gogh for the next hour. "Great." He muttered, walking to the supply cupboard to retrieve the supplies. It was going to be a long day, that much was for sure.


End file.
